


An Ache I Still Remember

by Slenderlock



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Magic, Post-WS Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Pre-Avengers Steve Rogers, Time Travel, WIP, semi-permanent hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenderlock/pseuds/Slenderlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This guy’s a pushover,” Clint groans. “Cap and Winter could double team him, no problem.”</p><p>“Please never say that again,” Bucky says.</p><p>“He’s got magic,” Steve says tiredly. “And that means anything can happen. We have to be prepared.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>Based on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pov4qMSfg9w">the deleted scenes of Steve alone in New York.</a></em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ache I Still Remember

The guy’s name is _Baron von Sabre._

Bucky’s not really sure why there’s a _von_ in there, the guy doesn’t talk with an accent. It’s probably just for show. Come to think of it, so are _Baron_ and _Sabre._

“Guys, come on,” Clint whines into everyone’s earpieces. “We don't all need to be here, do we? I’ve got a dog to feed. Nat and Bruce aren’t even here. Stark'stechnically not even here.”

“Nat’s in Germany,” Tony points out. “And Bruce is at his niece’s birthday party. And hey, I’m there in spirit.”

“You’re watching from your living room.”

“I’m giving important information, I’m helping.”

“This guy’s a pushover,” Clint groans. “Cap and Winter could double team him, no problem.”

“Please never say that again,” Bucky says.

“He’s got magic,” Steve says tiredly. “And that means anything can happen. We have to be prepared.”

“Anything,” Clint repeats, sing-song. “Yeah, right. He’ll wave his wand around and tomorrow we’re all gonna wake up with purple dots on our dicks, or with different voices, or with gigantic tongues-”

“Hey, wait,” Tony butts in, “were you watching that kids’ show again?”

“Shut up!”

Bucky snorts, and Clint makes a sound into the mic that makes him snort even louder.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Bucky coos. “Is someone feeling emasculated?”

“You almost blew Steve in front of _all of us,”_ Clint points out, “before you remembered it was _communal_ movie night- or don’t you remember?”

“All right,” Steve snaps, “that’s enough. Focus, please.”

Clint makes a wet kissing noise into the mic, and everyone groans in tandem.

“I second that,” Tony says. “We only have room for two disgusting people on our team, and Barnes and Noble have that covered.”

“Barnes and what?” Bucky says.

“All right, he’s going down to the subway,” Tony says. “Head down on the Astor stop and go north, he’ll be heading up but you’ll be ahead of him. You can get civilians out from there.”

“Copy,” Steve, Bucky, and Clint all say.

“Barton, Bucky,” Steve says, and Bucky can hear him from where he’s running beside him, alongside the mic. “You’re the evac team.”

“Copy,” Clint says.

“What?” Bucky says.

“Our first priority is minimizing civilian damage,” Steve says. The subway entrance comes into view, and the three of them sprint towards it. Well, Steve and Bucky sprint together, Clint lags a little behind.

“So you’re just going to fight him alone?”

“I’m going to hold him off until you’ve evacuated the place,” Steve says, nodding.

Bucky scowls, but there isn’t enough time to argue about it. “Copy,” he says, reluctantly.

They funnel down into the subway. Steve heads left, Bucky and Clint head right. Bucky spares one last glance over his shoulder at Steve, at the shield slung on his back, before turning back around and heading down the tracks.

To their credit, the civilians are pretty easygoing about evacuating. It might be because Clint’s acting like he’s filling out his community service hours in the last few weeks of high school so that he can graduate, but no one panics. They all file off the cars- Clint does the talking to get them out, and Bucky leads them all back to the stairs. Clint’s better at talking, anyway.

“All the immediate cars are empty,” Clint says, when they’re finished. “And the rest of the ones on this line are stopped, we’re fine.”

“Steve, what’s going on over there?” Bucky demands, already jogging down the subway back towards Steve. “You better not be dead, you hear me?”

“Heads up,” Steve grunts, and there’s the sound of something very large hitting something else very large. “This guy _does_ have a wand.”

“Aw, magic, no,” Clint whines.

“Oh, shut up,” Bucky grumbles.

* * *

 

“Took you long enough,” Steve shouts, from where he’s standing behind his shield. Sabre, holding what looks like a lightsaber but is, in actuality, a _magic wand,_ gives a maniacal laugh as he sees Clint and Bucky run up beside Steve.

“You _fools,”_ he crows, holding the wand up in the air. It crackles with what probably isn’t electricity. “You really thought-”

“We could beat you,” Clint finishes. “Come on, man, can we just get this over with?”

“Excuse me?” Sabre curls his lip and points the wand at Clint. “You _dare_ to mock me?”

Clint slings an arrow from his quiver and cocks it. It’s got something stuck on the front- something which really doesn’t look aerodynamic at all, which means it’s probably supposed to explode, or something. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Your puny tools are no match,” Sabre roars, thrusting the wand forward, “for my _powers.”_ The wand sizzles a little, glowing a little redder.

“Look, man,” Clint says, and Sabre attacks. The wand slashes straight through Clint’s bow- Jesus, it _is_ a lightsaber- and right down his chest.

“Fuck!” Clint shouts, as his uniform catches fire. “Fucking _shit,_ you _asshole!”_ He tries to smack the flames off his chest, and yelps in pain as he burns his hand.

“Without your weapons,” Sabre purrs, and Steve lifts the shield a little higher. “You are nothing. You are useless.”

“Fuck yeah I’m useless,” Clint grunts.

“Barton,” Bucky says, warningly.

“Double team him, I believe in you,” Clint says.

“Double- what?” Sabre repeats.

“Ignore him,” Steve says. “Sabre. Do us all a favor and put that thing down, all right?”

Sabre narrows his eyes. Steve clenches the shield. Sabre holds his wand in the air and spins it dramatically. The subway walls shudder, before crumbling in, collapsing. Steve holds the shield up over himself and Bucky rolls under it, just in time to avoid a large chunk of falling concrete. Jesus, this is going to be expensive.

“Pep’s not gonna be happy about this one,” Tony says, voice slightly muffled in Bucky’s earpiece.

“Are you eating something?” he asks, and flinches as another slab of concrete hits the shield and breaks cleanly in two. Steve grunts at the effort of holding the shield up.

“What?” Tony says. “It’s good entertainment.”

Through the new cloud of dust and grime, Bucky can just make out Sabre standing in the rubble, completely unharmed. Steve is concentrated, holding his shield up to keep them from being crushed. Sabre steps forward with his left foot, raising his wand menacingly, and Bucky has enough time to know exactly what he’s going to do but not enough time to warn Steve-

He tackles Steve around the middle as Sabre shouts something in a language Bucky doesn’t understand, and something hits him and spears him through the stomach, and he grunts and squeezes his eyes shut-

* * *

He blinks, and he’s on the subway.

It’s completely repaired, no signs of the collateral damage and the crumbling concrete that had been there mere moments ago. Bucky almost feels relieved- it’s not every day supervillains actually clean up after themselves- but something feels off.

This place can’t have just been fixed. That’s not how supervillains _work._

Sure, everything looks perfect, but. But there’s got to be something wrong.

The car jerks on the tracks as it turns left, sharply. He tenses, assessing. His left arm sticks out like… well, like a metal left arm in a train car full of normal people. A few of them glance subtly at him over their books and phones, but none are brave enough to say anything- which is a red flag. Sure, he’s nowhere near as popular as Steve- and certainly not Tony- but he usually gets at least a few waves. Maybe a ‘thank you for your service’. He’s gotten a few memorable shouted rants, and countless more requests for autographs.

He clenches the pole, jittering as the car rolls across the rails, and scans the crowd.

There’s a lady with two small children, who look exactly alike. She’s exhausted but happy, as they chatter away in her lap. Behind her is an elderly man reading a novel with a title too small for Bucky to read, and beside him is a young girl clutching her backpack tight up against her chest. On the other side, there are two girls, slightly older, each listening to one earbud of the same set. They sit behind a man holding a briefcase, whose eyebrows tighten every time one of them laughs. And after three rows of empty seats, sitting in the back row up against the window is- is-

Is _Steve._

He’s not in uniform, he’s in civilian clothes. He doesn’t even have his shield on him. And he’s looking out the window like it might answer some deep, mystical question- like he’s in an early 2000’s music video with nothing but acapella minor chords being sung with too much vibrato-

He’s _sad._

Bucky abandons the pole, stumbling across the subway floor as fast as his feet can take him. He stops just short of Steve’s seat, suddenly unsure of what, exactly, to say.

Steve shifts in his seat just so- he knows Bucky’s there, but he seems determined to ignore him. Bucky swallows something thick in his throat, tongue frozen on the roof of his mouth. A hundred words come to mind, and not a single one of them is correct. He sets a hand on the back of the seat in front of Steve, and Steve gives a frustrated grunt.

What the hell is going on?

“Steve?” Bucky asks, softly. Quietly.

“Rogers,” Steve answers, not even looking up.

He doesn’t recognize Bucky’s voice. He doesn’t- why doesn’t he-

“Steve,” Bucky says again, “Steve, what- what’s going on?”

“Pal,” Steve says, in the coldest voice Bucky’s ever heard him use, “I could ask you the same-”

And then he looks up.

“Steve?” Bucky says, and Steve’s mouth drops open. Bucky’s name forms on Steve’s lips, but nothing comes out. His eyes track up and down Bucky’s face, and he blinks, and his eyes shine in the dirt cheap lights of the subway car, and he blinks again, and he bites his lip, and he lets it go, and-

“I,” he says, and blinks again, and the corners of his eyes begin to leak. “I don’t.” He meets Bucky’s eyes again. _“How?”_

The puzzle piece slots into place, and Bucky understands.

“Oh,” he says. “Shit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WIP again  
> no idea where this is gonna go or how it's gonna end but I've been sitting on this long enough and I wanted it up  
> title from "Somebody That I Used to Know" because im a piece of shit


End file.
